Pequot Casino Dedicated

Tradition, Ambition In Casino Ceremony

LEDYARD — Dressed in deerskin and shivering against winter's deepest chill, Slow Turtle, supreme medicine man of the Mashpee Wampanoag tribe, performed an ancient Indian rite Wednesday, dedicating the first East Coast casino outside Atlantic City.

Witnessed by about 1,800 invited guests, the simplicity of Slow Turtle's ceremony highlighted the remarkable contradiction and coincidence surrounding the glitzy opening of the $55 million casino on the Mashantucket Pequot reservation.

To the public, which must wait for the official opening Saturday, the casino will be a shrine to the almighty dollar, a glittery palace where one might see a show, sip a cocktail and challenge Lady Luck in a game of blackjack or roulette.

But for the Pequots, a tribe of 250 people that was almost extinct 20 years ago, the ornate steel-and-glass casino is a monument to their fortitude and an insurance policy for their future.

"We were looking for different kinds of economic development projects so that we could provide jobs for our families moving back to the reservation," said Richard "Skip" Hayward, the tribal chairman. Maple sugaring, growing hydroponic vegetables and raising pigs all failed to yield enough money to sustain the tribe, he said.

"Today, with the opening of the Foxwoods High Stakes Bingo and Casino, the Mashantucket Pequot Tribe is on the verge of a social and economic renaissance," Hayward said.

Although many state and local officials resisted the casino plans, the outcry has been muted as federal military cutbacks have rocked defense-dependent southeastern Connecticut, leaving gambling as the region's only growth industry.

"Really, it's the idea that jobs are critical and they're providing in excess of 2,000 jobs and a payroll of $40 million," said state House Speaker Richard J. Balducci, D-Newington. "That will help an area that's depressed over the [cutbacks at] Electric Boat."

Balducci was among about 1,800 guests who included U.S. Rep. Sam Gejdenson, D-2nd District, state legislators, gaming

regulators, local government and business leaders, Pequots, Indians from neighboring tribes, casino construction crews and tribal advisers.

After Slow Turtle's blessing, the group adjourned to the Pequots' high-stakes bingo hall, adjacent to the casino, where they listened to speeches and were treated to a buffet lunch featuring prime rib.

"Today is about self-determination, risk-taking and entrepreneurialship among a people that were given an opportunity by the federal government and who seized the moment," said Alfred J. Luciani, a veteran gaming executive hired from Atlantic City to run the casino.

Indian gaming is permitted under a 1988 federal law that gave tribes the right to offer high-stakes versions of any wagering legal in their states. Connecticut allows the state lottery, off-track betting, dog tracks, jai alai, and table games such as roulette and blackjack at charity Las Vegas nights.

Kevin McBride, an archaeologist from the University of Connecticut who has helped the Pequots rediscover their heritage, noted that the tribe's newfound status as an economic power in southeastern Connecticut really is not new at all.

"The supreme irony is 350 years ago the Pequot tribe was the most powerful social, economic and political force in the region because of the fact that they were astute and, some think, overly aggressive businessmen," McBride said.

"As you sit here today," McBride told the audience, "I want you to keep in mind that history does sometimes repeat itself."

Some scientists say the 1637 massacre that nearly wiped out the tribe was instigated at least in part by the Pequots' domination of the money of the time.